


Happy Birthday, Dean

by Jinx (jinx37kat)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-22
Updated: 2006-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:29:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9279965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinx37kat/pseuds/Jinx
Summary: A missed opportunity.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was written prior to finding out the birthdays of the boys.

 

 

The car barely has time to stop moving before Dean is out of the passenger’s seat like a shot and heading towards their new home for the next few days. 

They had been following the same demon for the past week and a half and had managed to track it to yet another forsaken town in the middle of nowhere. But, as usual, there was nothing they could do about it tonight. Tonight was for resting – or internet research if you were Sam and weapons cleaning if you were Dean. 

But tonight was not a normal night, apparently, Sam surmised, as he watched his brother bail out of the car and slam his way into their room. Sam followed sedately behind wondering what could possibly have crawled up Dean’s ass this time. 

The morning has started off normal enough. They had packed their bags and got on the highway by mid-morning. Dean was his usual cocky, arrogant, smirk-y self and slid behind the wheel of his ‘baby’ with his usual flair, cranking up Poison to poisoning, ear-splitting levels. By mid-afternoon, Dean seemed to have fallen in on himself. Gone was the ear piercing mullet rock of the 80s. Gone was the random questions of which was better: Surface, Threshold or Invasion – none of which Sam could remember Dean even watching, let alone knowing anything about. Instead, his brother seemed to have been replaced by introspective Dean – just bordering on pouty Dean. 

Neither Dean was a Dean that Sam cared for because that meant that Dean was thinking and who knew where that could lead? 

They stopped briefly for lunch and driver switching, which was definitely something that had Sam contemplating Dean’s sanity, especially when Dean wordlessly slid the keys across the table to Sam before leaving the diner. 

Usually Sam had to steal the keys from Dean or ambushing him in some way to pry the keys from his brother’s fatigued stiff fingers, but this voluntarily handing over of the keys made Sam study his brother a little closer to see if he hadn’t been replaced by a ‘shifter when he hadn’t been looking. 

Okay, so it really wasn’t that bad, but still… 

By the time they stopped for the day, Dean had hit massive broody Dean and nothing Sam had said or tried to say was able to bring Dean out of his self-imposed funk. In fact, when Sam thought about it closer, he realized that his attempts seemed to have had the opposite effect and only cause Dean to pull further inside himself. 

This worried Sam because there were only two times that Sam saw Dean this bad; one was just after the Roosevelt Asylum incident and the other was during the faith healer incident. 

And that meant that whatever it was, was probably really bad. 

 

Sam had barely made it into the room when Dean almost plowed into him on his way out. 

“Where you going?” Sam asked cautiously. 

“Out,” Dean replied from the doorway. 

The door slammed shut behind his older brother and Sam sighed heavily at the complete silence of the room. “Well, duh,” he whispered to the now empty stillness. 

Sighing again, Sam fished the keys from his pocket and went back outside to gather his and Dean’s bags. Coming back in, he unceremoniously tossed Dean’s bag to the furthest bed and claimed the one closest to the door. Cracking open his laptop, he cranked it up, got as comfortable as one could on a cheap-ass motel mattress and decided to start their research early. 

 

Several hours later and Dean was still MIA. Normally this wouldn’t have bothered Sam, but, he had already established that this was not normal circumstances. 

Grabbing his discarded jacket from the lone chair next to the lone table, Sam grabbed the keys to the Impala as well as to the room and went outside. 

He stood before the car and glanced around at the sprawling nothingness that surrounded him. When someone said they were from a ‘small town’, they probably didn’t mean this. This could barely register as a town in the first place – a gas station, this crap motel, across the street was a store or rather a ‘mercantile’, a bar and… oh yes. Never mind. This is definitely a ‘town’. Or so Dean believed. Any place that housed a bar was definitely a town. And it was somewhere that Sam was sure he’d be able to find his errant brother. 

He pocketed the keys to the car, knowing that he wouldn’t need them, and slowly made his way to the saloon. Yes, it was actually called, The Saloon. 

Sam shook his head as he stood in the front of the building. The only thing that was missing was the swinging half doors and a horse tied up out front. Snorting silently to himself, Sam pushed open the door and scanned the interior for his brother. 

There was no pool table for starters, which meant that Dean was probably planted somewhere drinking their money away. Okay, that wasn’t fair. Dean really didn’t drink a lot. In fact, as much time as he spent in bars pool hustling, you’d think he’d be a drinker, but he wasn’t. 

Although, spying him at a corner table with a brunette practically wrapped around him, might have Sam re-evaluating his early thoughts. 

Sam walked up to the table and glanced down between Dean and the brunette. She was pretty in that overly used way. Sam promptly forgot her and turned his attention to Dean. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” 

Dean blinked heavily up at Sam, smacking his head on the wall behind him – though it was probably the only thing that was holding Dean’s head up in the first place. 

“Shammy!” Dean exclaimed, drunken smile splitting his face. His head moved against the wall to the side so he could see the girl next to him. “Thish is my,” he thumped his chest for emphasis, “baby brother, Shammy.” Then Dean’s eyes got wide and he brought the hand that was holding his beer bottle to his mouth, fingers attempting to cover his lips. “Ooooh, oops.” Dean started shaking his head from side to side before looking at the girl again. He leaned closer to her and whispered loudly in her ear. “Wait! No, no. NO! It’s not Shammy. It’sh Sham. You can’t call him Shammy. Nope. Not anymore.” 

Sam rolled his eyes and briefly glanced over at the girl, half way expecting her to giggle or flirt or, or anything other than what she was doing, which was glaring at him. What the – ?! Whatever. He didn’t have time for her anyway. It was clear that Dean was a few more than a few sheets to the wind and it was way past time for him to get his brother back to the motel and into bed before the hangover that Dean was sure to wake up with tomorrow is worse than what he was currently facing. 

“C’mon, Dean. I think you’ve had enough. Let’s go home.” Sam reached down for Dean’s arm, but the alcohol in Dean’s system had turned his brother’s muscles to cooked spaghetti and Dean managed to squirm his arm from Sam’s grasp. 

“Nuh-uh. ‘M celebradin’. In fact…” Dean’s wobbly head pushed from the wall and he yelled at the bartender. “Three be—” But before he could finish his sentence, the waitress had produced three long-necks and placed them on the table with a wink and a smile. Dean gave the waitress his patented cocky grin, that didn’t seem to have the ability to fade with drunkenness, and pulled one bottle to himself. After taking a swig, he pushed one to his tablemate, who still hadn’t let up glaring at Sam, and one to Sam, who was still towering over the table. “Shid down, Shamm… um, SHAM and take a load off.” 

Sighing, Sam shook his head and pushed the bottle away. “No, Dean. And I think you’ve had enough, too.” 

Dean leaned over and almost face-planted on the table but was helped back by the girl glued to his side. He gave the yet unnamed girl a huge smile before grabbing Sam’s bottle with his free hand and sitting back. He raised both bottles and turned to the girl. “Cheers!” 

She smiled at him and raised her bottle as well. The glass bottles clanked so hard that Sam was sure that they would shatter, but they didn’t. Dean brought both to his lips before laughing at himself. Dean took a long gulp from one and then from the other before letting them crash on the table with a resounding thud. 

Knowing this was going to take forever, but needing to get Dean out of there, Sam sighed and sat down. 

Dean’s whole body wavered as he glanced over at Sam. “There ya go!” He slid one of the bottles he had just downed half of towards Sam and nodded his head to himself. “Cheers, Shamm… Damn it!” Dean looked up at Sam with pleading apologetic eyes. “’M shorry, Sham. I keep forgittin’.” Dean’s sigh was heavy with regret and he sagged against the girl a bit more. 

Feeling his chest tighten and not understanding why, especially since he’s been after Dean to quit calling him ‘Sammy’ for ages now, Sam leaned over and patted Dean’s arm. “It’s okay, Dean, really.” 

Dean’s eyes lit up like he’d won the lottery, or in Dean’s case like he’d won a shitload of guns and cars. He leaned over to the girl and smiled. “That’s my brother.” 

The girl nodded and for the first time spoke, spoke what would ultimately crash Sam’s happy mood into dust. 

She turned to Sam with a look of disgust and snorted none too quietly. “The same brother who forgot your birthday?” 

Sam could feel his face pale in the dimness of the bar and he turned to Dean who had his bottle of beer half way to his open mouth. 

Before either brother could respond, she continued. “Doesn’t seem like too much of a brother, if you ask me.” 

Instead of taking a drink, Dean put the bottle back down on the table with the overly cautiousness of the completely drunk. 

The table was filled with tension that only moments before held the makings of one brother having teasing fodder over the other for years to come. Now, Dean seemed almost sober and Sam was feeling the tightening of his chest grow with his realization that he had forgotten his brother’s birthday. 

His guilt grew exponentially as he remembered his own birthday a few months prior and what Dean had done for him throughout the day. 

However, he was unable to wallow in his shame because his brother suddenly stood up, grabbing his jacket from behind his chair. It took Dean a few moments to find the sleeve with one arm; and the girl stood as well and assisted him with the other arm. 

Dean refused to look at either one of them as he indicated the door with his head. “Uh, ‘m gonna…” 

The girl leaned over and gave Dean a chaste kiss on his cheek and whispered. “Happy Birthday, honey.” 

Dean tried to smile his thanks, but it fell as soon as Dean noticed Sam from the corner of his eye. 

Sam scrabbled to his feet and watched his brother stagger towards the door. The girl turned to him with a look of loathing. “Well, don’t just stand there. The least you could do is help him back to the room.” 

Sam nodded his agreement and made his way to the exit. He found Dean lurching his way across the deserted street and ran to catch up to him. 

Oh, did he ever fuck up. Big time. 

So this was why Dean had gone downhill since this morning. Today was his birthday and his little brother couldn’t have even been bothered to even acknowledge it with a wish of ‘Happy Birthday’. 

Sam knew it wasn’t presents or cakes or any other traditional birthday fare that Dean would have wanted. They never really had that growing up. But Sam had forgotten and that was worse than no presents or cakes. 

He sighed at himself, wishing to grow a third leg in order to kick his own ass, as he walked his hammered brother back to their room. 

 

Once they returned to their room, Sam was ready to start in on his apology when he realized that Dean was probably too drunk to deal with Sam’s guilt. This epiphany occurred when Dean collapsed on the nearest bed, which was initially Sam’s, and promptly started snoring. 

Sam sat on the end of the bed and removed Dean’s shoes before removing the laptop from beside Dean’s hip. He folded the edges of the blanket around Dean, cocooning him before getting ready for bed himself. 

He was not looking forward to tomorrow. It would be a day filled with Sam attempting to apologize and Dean shrugging his shoulders like it didn’t matter to him at all; when they both would know, deep down, that Sam’s failure to remember had cut Dean worse than any knife (or rock salt blast) could. 

Sam, pissed at himself by his self-absorption, angrily tossed the bag off his bed and crawled under the covers. 

How the hell was he supposed to fix this? 

 

Instead of coming up with ideas of how to make this up to Dean, Sam’s mind kept wandering back to his own birthday a few months ago. 

_They had been tracking the Hook Man legend. Which in and of itself was pretty fucking scary. Sam had actually forgotten his own birthday, still brooding over Jessica as well as bonding with the reverend’s daughter._

_He had woken up to Dean actually already awake and humming a very familiar tune under his breath._

_Sam hadn’t realized what the tune was until they got to the restaurant for breakfast. Sam had foolishly gone to the bathroom after they ordered. How else could he explain the waitress knowing his birthday unless Dean told her and the only way for that to have happened was when he left Dean for those few minutes._

_When their breakfast was delivered, there was a candle in Sam’s scrambled eggs and the waitress and Dean sang Happy Birthday to Sam loud enough and off-key enough to embarrass Sam for the rest of his life._

_Sam leaned over and blew out his candle all the while glaring evilly at his big brother. Dean’s smile split his face and he went back to humming the Happy Birthday song under his breath as he consumed his own breakfast._

_Yes, Sam had been properly embarrassed, but he was also secretly pleased that Dean had remembered his birthday. Though in retrospect, he really shouldn’t have been all that surprised. It was always Dean who made sure Sam had something for his birthday: whether it was a cake, presents, candles, anything that represented the specialness of the day._

_And breakfast had just been the beginning. Dean had snagged the candle from breakfast and the damned thing popped up at lunch, Dean sticking it into Sam’s potato salad._

_Sam had thought that he’d gotten rid of it, but it showed up again at dinner, Dean shoving it into his mashed potatoes. And each and every time, Dean had sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to him loud and off-key for maximum embarrassment._

_It worked._

_Sam was properly embarrassed by Dean all day long._

_After dinner and a little more research, they had gone back to their room; and Sam had thought that Dean was finished for the day. He had thanked his brother for the birthday wishes and had gone to take a shower. When he had come out about twenty minutes later, he was greeted with a real cake on the table with the words, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAM” neatly scripted on the white frosting. A “2” and a “3” sat side-by-side at the top of the cake and there were three wrapped presents next to the cake._

_Dean was settled on his bed with his face in the newspaper._

_Sam couldn’t help but smile as he went over to Dean and smacked the back of the newspaper to get his brother’s attention._

_“What’s all this?” He’d asked._

_Dean shrugged his shoulder but couldn’t hide his grin. “Dunno. The Birthday Fairy, I guess.”_

_Sam cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Birthday Fairy? I knew there was something off about you.”_

_Dean rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha, bitch. Open your presents.”_

_They had both walked over to the small table and Dean grabbed the presents before Sam had the opportunity. Pushing Sam down on the end of his own bed, Dean handed him the presents._

_“Happy Birthday, Sammy.” Dean sat across of Sam on his own bed and watched anxiously._

_“It’s Sam,” Sam corrected, though not really caring._

_“Shut it, bitch and open.”_

_The first present was a book, “Hunting for Dummies”. Sam threw it at Dean; both boys laughing. The second was a CD that Dean had burned off of Sam’s computer of all of Sam’s favorite music._

_“What’s this? I already have this on my computer,” Sam had reminded Dean._

_“Yeah, I know, dummy. It goes with the last present.”_

_Sam put the last present in his lap and tore the wrapping off. He gasped as he looked at the box. It was a portable CD player complete with attachments for the car._

_“Dean…” Sam was so shocked at Dean’s generosity that he couldn’t find the words. “This is…” He looked up at his brother. “Thank you!”_

_Dean shrugged a shoulder like it was no big deal and stood up. “Now you can listen to your crap rock. But only when you drive,” he reminded._

_Sam pulled out the headphones and smiled. “No. All the time.” He waved the headphones in Dean’s face. “Though, I will subject you to my ‘crap rock’ when I’m driving. All. The. Time.”_

_“What have I done?” Dean bemoaned and he went over to the cake and lit the candles. He picked up the cake with the lit numbers and stood before Sam. “Okay, Sammy, make a wish.”_

_Sam rolled his eyes and glared at Dean. “I wish you’d stop calling me ‘Sammy’.” Sam leaned forward and blew out the candles._

_Dean grinned manically. “You realize that since you told me your wish, it won’t come true now.”_

_“Prick.”_

_“Bitch.”_

_“Jerk.”_

_“Happy Birthday, Sam.”_

_They engorged on the cake for the rest of the night, enjoying what little down time they had created for themselves before getting back to the job at hand and finding a way to take down the Hook Man._

 

Sam sighed at the memory as he stared at the ceiling listening to Dean snore in the bed next to him. Even with everything that was going on, Dean had managed to find the time to not only remember Sam’s birthday, but to make sure that it had been celebrated. 

And what did Dean get for his? Nothing. 

Sam sighed heavily again and rolled over, facing Dean. There really was nothing he could do to fix this. He was well and truly fucked. Because celebrating tomorrow just wouldn’t be the same. 

Sighing again, Sam closed his eyes.

 

Finis


End file.
